Her Mother's Daughter
by Julia Claire
Summary: The war was raging, and everything seemed different, scarier.  Worst of all, her mum was gone.  Hints of Neville/Hannah.


**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.**

**A/N: Written for the Hogwarts Online Forum September First Challenge of the Month. **

**Her Mother's Daughter**

Nothing was the same anymore, and it scared her.

She wondered dimly where all the happiness had gone to. The whole platform seemed gray, the once beautiful scarlet steam engine now looked blood-red, and the billowing steam that used to smell of new beginnings choked her. Her father could only stare blankly at the train, apparently incapable of saying anything. Around them, people huddled in groups, looking around fearfully, uncertainly. Instead of nervous excitement on the first years' faces there was only barely-concealed terror.

No one felt safe these days, not with the war going on. These last few months, there had been more and more deaths, more and more disappearances, so that the question was no longer _if_, but _when_ and _who_. There was, after all, no running from it: sooner or later, someone you loved was going to die - it was the unavoidable truth. For Hannah, it had happened sooner.

It was impossible to stand in this place, and not be flooded with memories. Platform 9 3/4 had been the last place she'd ever seen her mum - alive, anyway - exactly one year ago today. Hannah had had letters from her, of course, after that, but it wasn't the same - it never would be.

When Hannah closed her eyes, she could still see her, cheeks rosy, laughing as she waved goodbye to her only daughter forever. There was none of her mother left in this place anymore, none of her rosiness, her laughter, none of her stubbornness, her beauty. Somehow, Hannah had expected there to be _something, _something to let her know that her mum had not left her completely alone, something to brighten the tiniest corner of all the gray - but there was nothing. Her mother was gone.

"Hannah." At first, she couldn't believe it was Susan who had spoken, Susan, who was neat and tidy (so much so it occasionally drove Hannah crazy) and always stood up straight, graceful in her own way as she towered over all of the girls and most of the boys.

Now, her plait was messy, her eyes were red, and she slumped, the weight of this world too heavy for her, her eyes almost level with Hannah's. Susan knew the unavoidable truth too. She understood.

"Su - " she started, then stopped, unable to finish the word. They looked at each other for a moment, and both knowing they didn't have anything to say - what could they say? So they simply hugged, taking a small comfort in the fact that at least they still had each other. Then Susan walked on, staring straight ahead but looking at nothing at all.

A few minutes later, Ernie passed by her, his expression somber. He opened his mouth when he saw her, then closed it, nodding instead. For the first time in his life, he did not make a pompous remark, and for the first time in _hers_, she wished he had. She almost felt like crying - she didn't understand this new world, where Susan slouched and Ernie closed his mouth and children were scared and _her mum wasn't there_.

She scanned the faces of the people around her to see if they understood what she was missing. It did not appear so - all she saw was fear and sadness, worry and pain. She couldn't help thinking, fruitlessly, foolishly, that if You-Know-Who could see these faces, he'd stop this insanity, this madness. She knew he wouldn't.

Suddenly, the expressions changed, and Hannah saw anger and disgust join the emotions that were parading across everyone's faces. She looked around and spotted the reason - Draco Malfoy and his mother had just appeared on the platform. Mrs. Malfoy swept by everyone, her face haughty, set, and Draco smirked as a first-year squeaked in fright and jumped out of their way. Despite this, Hannah detected the smallest trace of fear in their eyes too. She had been prepared to hate the sight of Draco Malfoy, to glorify in his every discomfort because his father's friends were undoubtedly the ones who had snuffed out her mum's life. Now, however... she still hated him, would always hate him, but it did not make her feel better to see that the Malfoys were just as scared as she was, just as scared as everyone was. If even _they_were afraid, then what did that mean for her, plump, good-for-nothing Hannah Abbott, lowly Hufflepuff?

"Hannah?" her dad asked softly, coming out of his reverie and saying something for the first time since they'd entered the platform. She turned to face him, wincing at the worry lines in his face, the gray strands in his hair, which had not been there before her mother died. "Hannah?" he repeated, reaching out an arm and hugging her close. "Are you all right?"

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. Like so many other times, she failed, and two tears slid slowly down her face. Of course she wasn't all right. How could he even ask such a question? The world was dark, and she was lost. "No," she said. "Daddy..."

"Shush," he murmured. "It'll be okay." It wouldn't, but she did not say it.

The train whistle blew, not a welcome, this time, but a warning. She didn't want to go, didn't want her father to remove his arm from her shoulder, much less let him out of her sight. What if this was the last time she ever saw him?

"You have to get on," he whispered. "We all have to get through..."

They'd considered going into hiding, so that she wouldn't have to face Hogwarts again at all, but her father, forever a Ravenclaw, felt that the smarter move would be to keep their heads down and do everything they were told. Within reason, of course. He always acted within reason, but Hannah wasn't like that. She looked like him, was nearly a carbon copy, which was a shame, according to nearly everyone. Her mum was a beauty, tall and slim, but Hannah hadn't inherited any of that.

In nature, however, she'd always been her mum's. They were both Hufflepuffs, loyal and too damn stubborn for their own good. At least, that was how Hannah had used be - now, she was a coward, slinking around, doing everything her mum's murderers were telling her to.

They were loading up the train, now, so her dad gave her one last hug, whispering, "I love you," before he pushed her onto the train.

She didn't look back at him - she couldn't. It was too painful.

She found the compartment with Ernie and Susan, then flopped onto a seat and sobbed.

* * *

At last, her tears subsided; she had already cried to much to have very many tears left.

Zacharias Smith and Megan Jones had joined the compartment, and were talking with Ernie and Susan. It was hard to hear them, as they were all speaking in whispers. Who might be listening, she didn't know, but in these times, it didn't seem to be an unnecessary precaution.

They were all speculating, wondering what this year was going to be like, with Snape as Headmaster and the new teachers, the Carrows, whoever they were, and so many of their friends just _gone_. The last topic was the most sensitive - Zacharias Smith seemed to think that Harry Potter had taken the easy way out, but no one else wanted to think about the danger everyone in hiding was probably in right now. None of them, including Zacharias, could even bear to mention Justin's name. Hannah hoped he was okay - she didn't want to think about the alternative.

The conversation went in circles because none of them really knew anything, had any idea of what would happen this year. Eventually, they fell into silence.

* * *

She lost Ernie and Hannah when they got off the train, and even though she was seventeen and knew exactly where she was - Hogsmeade - she still felt like a five-year-old who had just lost sight of her mother at the shopping center. Her chest felt tight; she could hardly breathe. Then suddenly, someone grabbed her wrist, and she was a second away from screaming when she saw Neville Longbottom's pudgy, familiar face.

"Nev," she said. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he said, looking ashamed. He looked different too, but it wasn't in the same way that Ernie and Susan had. Neville had only grown taller, her face was slightly leaner, and his voice had deepened. Slight changes, all, but she noticed them, and they did not make her cringe like the other differences had.

He took a deep breath, scanning the crowd around them before saying, "So, Ginny, Luna, and I were thinking of starting up the D.A. again, you know, because of Snape being in charge and Harry not being here, and You-Know-Who. And we're trying to find out who wanted to join again."

He looked at her, and she didn't know what to say.

He went on. "I know it'll be dangerous, but - "

"So why are you doing it, then?" she asked, feeling close to tears again. It was probably irrational, but she didn't want to think of anymore fighting, of anyone else dying.

For a moment, he seemed to consider this. At last, he said, "Because of my parents. They fought and I..." his voice cracked, "... I want to be like them."

This made her think of her own parents, of her mum, who was gone, who had left nothing of herself behind.

Except for Hannah.

This thought made her feel brave, gave her strength. She was not alone, not lowly, she was _Hannah Abbott, _shy, perhaps, but stubborn, loyal. With a fierceness that seemed to almost shock Neville, she said, "You couldn't _stop_ me."

She was her mother's daughter, and nothing - _nothing_ - could ever change that.


End file.
